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TL;DR RULES1. post anonymously unless linking to a fill posted somewhere else ( Read more... )
TL;DR RULES1. post anonymously unless linking to a fill posted somewhere else ( Read more... )
“I’m sorry.” Lu Han’s Korean is soft around the edges, his arms are soft around Minseok’s waist, and his breath is soft against Minseok’s neck. Minseok’s heart is pounding in his chest, and he can’t tell if the pulse is his or Lu Han’s.
“I like you, just as a friend,” Lu Han murmurs.
Minseok lets out a harsh laugh. “It doesn’t matter now,” he says. He walks away from Lu Han’s loose grasp and sits heavily on the mattress. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Lu Han stands for a moment, his head down and arms hanging loosely by his side. Minseok avoids his eyes - there are too many misunderstandings here, too many missed words and missed touches, but they have known each other for years and Minseok knows what Lu Han does not say. A moment, and then Lu Han begins methodically unbuttoning his jeans, kicking his pants off, tugging his shirt over his head until he’s standing there in nothing but his underwear. Lu Han’s arms are well muscled and toned, and his abs ripple under his skin with every movement. This is not the first time Minseok has seen his bandmate shirtless.
“You…” Lu Han speaks hesitantly, licks his lips. “You should take off your clothes too.”
“I know,” Minseok says, as if they were discussing the weather.
He takes off his shirt first, and then his pants, and only then does he notice that his hands are trembling. He swallows. A quick glance tells him that Lu Han is shaking as well, that the Chinese boy is resolutely not meeting his eyes, and that despite himself, there is a growing bulge in his briefs. Minseok chuckles, but it is not one of amusement.
He’s barely gotten his pants off before Lu Han walks over and pushes him back until he’s lying down on the mattress. The mattress isn’t uncomfortable, and Lu Han brushes against the insides of his thighs.
It is unavoidable to meet his eyes now, and Minseok wonders at the apology there. He looks away.
“Just…close your eyes,” Lu Han says. His voice trembles under the effort to hold it steady. “It might be easier if you pretend I’m a girl.”
Minseok doesn’t know what to say about that, so he complies. They are going to have sex. They will have sex. There is probably someone watching. At some point, Lu Han (or had it been Chanyeol? Or both? ) had run his fingers across the walls, peering into cracks, but had come up negative for any cameras. That didn’t mean there weren’t any. If someone was capable of getting twelve not-unknown young men on their way to performing at a concert and into some creepy ass locked room, forcing them to have sex with each other under the threat of death - well, he doubted that installing cameras they couldn’t find was too difficult of an ordeal.
Lu Han still hasn’t touched him. Minseok opens his eyes and props himself up on his elbows, giving the other boy a questioning look. Lu Han is sitting back on his haunches, his arms resting loosely against his thighs, his fingers laced tightly together. Even from this distance, Minseok can see the way Lu Han’s nails dig into the back of his hands. The way Lu Han’s chin trembles. The way his eyes stare at his hands, without seeing anything at all.
It’s a look Minseok knows well. It’s a look they all know well.
He clears his throat awkwardly. “Hey…” he begins, and Lu Han’s head jerks up as if a firecracker had sounded somewhere in the room, his eyes wide and startled, his lips parted ever so slightly, a hint of pink tongue just visible. If Lu Han had been a girl, it would have been a very pretty look. It’s not the first time Minseok’s thought it - but being an idol, these things become open conversation. It’s easier to acknowledge the things everyone talks about instead of brushing it away. Or, to put it another way, it’s impossible to brush it away.
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